A Good One
by Monker
Summary: A missing scene from episode 02.13 "One of Us." When Skye turns her powers on herself in order to save her team, May accepts the responsibility. She is Skye's S.O. She trained her to internalize her emotions. Now, Skye's unconscious and bruised all over, and it's May's fault. Kind of Philinda, Kind of May/Andrew. Mostly Hurt/Comfort.


Author's Note: I wrote this story a long time ago (right after 02.13 aired). I'm not sure what kept me from posting it back then. I guess there was just something about it that never really satisfied me. But rereading it now, I don't think it's actually that bad, so I've decided to share it now. Let me know what you think, and if you'd vote to see a second chapter.

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His mind couldn't keep from flashing back to Italy. Skye in a hyperbaric chamber, her lifeblood draining through the two holes in her abdomen. Coulson able to do nothing but stand over her and watch.

This time round, though, things were a little less dire. Skye lay on the table in the medical ward as Simmons finished with her last examinations. He watched her breathing, subconsciously matching it with his own, and took solace in each successful breath. He couldn't keep from worrying about her, even in the capable hands of Dr. Jemma Simmons. He was certain he would always worry about her. But this time, he had another person who was also capturing his concern.

May stood next to the bed, arms crossed stiffly over her chest. She ignored every other person in the room, even the man she once called husband. Her eyes remained locked on Skye, a scowl knit into her brow. She hadn't moved since the moment Skye had been lain on that table, even through Simmons' many tests. Coulson and Andrew exchanged a look. Both men were starting to worry.

"Director?" Jemma began, approaching the group with a tablet in her hands and a solemn look in her eyes. Beside her, Fitz matched her expression with folded hands.

"Fitzsimmons, report," Coulson responded, unsure if he should be anxious about the news, or eager to hear it, but impatient either way.

Jemma cleared her throat. "I've detected a considerable amount of skeletal damage in Skye's arms and hands."

"What kind of damage?" Andrew asked.

"Hairline fractures," Fitz replied. "Close to eighty of them. All along her forearms, here," he drew his finger up the length of Skye's arm, hovering an inch above her skin. "That's the reason for the bruising."

"What did this to her?" Coulson asked.

"I believe she did," Simmons replied. "It's possible that, in her attempt to control her powers, she actually...internalized the damage she was inflicting, causing all of the shockwaves to move inward instead of outward."

"She hurt herself so that she wouldn't hurt any of us?" Coulson's words were more of a statement than a question, and he turned his pained eyes onto the selfless form on the table.

"Imagine a five-point-three earthquake on the Richter Scale, traveling through your bones instead of the ground," Fitz explained. "It's a wonder she didn't sustain more breaks than she did."

"I don't understand," Coulson said, shaking his head in a daze. "Why would she do that?"

"Because it's what I taught her to do." The sudden sound of May's voice caught everyone by surprise. She inhaled deeply. "Don't let the pressure get to you. Compartmentalize. Internalize. Neutralize. It's how I've taught her to focus in the field." For the first time, May tore her gaze away from Skye and let it settle on Coulson.

He recognized the guilt in her eyes. It was something akin to the look he had seen in her eyes after Bahrain. She wore a heavy mantle of responsibility, and she wouldn't share this one with anybody else. "She did this to herself, because of me," she told him.

"No," he replied. "This wasn't your fault."

"I let her go into the field. I put her in that situation, knowing that things could escalate."

Andrew took a step closer, coming to stand behind his ex wife. "It was Skye's choi-"

"But I'm her S.O.," Melinda snapped her head to the side, just as Andrew's hand was about to land on her shoulder. It froze in the air, like May was putting off some kind of force field that protected her from being consoled. "She was my responsibility, and I let this happen."

Without another word, May turned and left the room. For a while, the only noises in the room were the sound of May's boots clicking down the hall, and the reassuring beeps of Skye's heart monitor, as all three agents and one consulting psychiatrist watched the stoic specialist beat a hasty retreat.

"One of us should go talk to her," Andrew said a moment later, coming to stand next to Coulson as they both gazed out the door.

"I agree," Coulson replied. A moment later, he turned his attention fully onto Andrew. "Make sure she's okay," he said, "I'll be in my office."

"Coulson, wait." Andrew caught the director on the arm just as he was about to turn. Andrew looked at the shorter man and sighed. "I think it should be you."

The surprise was only barely evident on his face, and Coulson cast a subtle glance over to the two agents remaining in Skye's room. Jemma and Fitz both diverted their gazes quickly, pretending to be busy with other things. Coulson looked back to Andrew and began to protest when the other man stopped him with an insistent hand.

"Look, Phil...I know you two are close."

Coulson's head bowed at that and he shook it gently as he kicked a fleck off the tow of his shoe.

Andrew didn't heed the protest and just continued, "And you've known her longer."

"But you've known her better," Coulson countered, looking up at the other man sharply.

For a moment, Andrew seemed taken aback by the claim. Then, a sad smile tugged at his lips and he shook his head, a tiny huff of a laugh escaping him. "I don't think that's true."

Coulson visibly stepped back at that, at a complete loss for how the doctor's suggestion could possibly be true.

"Look," Andrew continued. "Melinda and I were married once, that's true, and that marriage came with all of the...usual intimacies."

Again, Coulson tossed a look toward the other agents. And they quickly diverted their eyes. Andrew looked too, and cleared his throat as he and Coulson both decided to take a few steps away from listening ears. Andrew lowered his voice. "But...even in the midst of all that, you two...were intimate in ways I could never match."

"Andrew," Coulson began, fixing the other man in a serious gaze. "I can promise you, Melinda and I never-"

Andrew shook off the words before they could even land on him. "No, Phil, you're not listening to me. Forget about that, okay. That's not what I'm saying here. Look..." he took in a deep breath. "I don't know exactly what it is about you two because Melinda never could spell it out for me all the years we were together, but you...you have something special with her. And you always have."

Coulson broke eye contact yet again to look at his shoes. Why was this so hard to hear?

Andrew nodded in understanding at Phil's reaction. "If there ever was a time when I was Melinda's man...it isn't anymore." He shoved his hands into his pockets as he looked around the long walls of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s underground headquarters, "If anything, this whole experience has shown me that."

Taking a step closer, Andrew placed his hand on Phil's shoulder. "When we were up there, the second she found out you needed help, she was immediately on her way to your side." When he had successfully coaxed Coulson's gaze up to his own, he looked pointedly down the hall, in the direction of Melinda May's wake. "Return the favor."

It only took a few seconds before Coulson was nodding. Just as he was about to take the other man's advice, he stopped. "You know," Coulson began, his tone oddly light in comparison, "this whole counseling thing? You're pretty good at it." He smirked.

Andrew returned the smile and laughed. "That's why you're paying me the big bucks."

Coulson winced, "Ugh, don't remind me." Then he did turn and start heading down the hall, feeling Andrew's pat on his back as he did.

"And Phil?"

He halted and turned once more.

"Whatever it is you _are_ to her...promise me you'll be a good one?"

The weight of that request fell heavily on Coulson's shoulders, and he recognized the look of a desperate man when he saw one. Solemnly, Phil nodded, not even totally sure himself what he was promising, but certain that he meant it. "I will," he said.

When both men finally seemed satisfied with that, Phil turned and kept his word. Whatever he was, he would be a good one.

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Thank you for reading! Be sure to leave a review and let me know what you thought. :)


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